Metallic Moon
by Krilleh
Summary: No soul is a good soul. It was more difficult to stay than to leave forever, but Maka didn't care. Will eventually become Kima.
1. Prologue

_"So how are you my old friend? I hear you have a son now."_

An ominous red light flashed down the sterile hallways as the loud repeated blare of a horn accompanied it. Important-looking men and women in white lab coats rushed down the corridors, and though there were no shouts, hushed whispers filled the air with tension. Their hasty footsteps were accompanied by the clanking of the bizarre machines that traveled near their side. The robots were of assorted sizes and shapes, but all of them headed towards the same direction as the scientists with a sense of purpose. As both robot and people congregated inside an immense dome-shaped room, a tall, old man stood on a platform and faced the gathering crowd.

He raised a hand for silence. "We cannot stall any longer," he began, "they are on their way right now, and it is the time to take action." He peered intently at the audience beneath crooked glasses. The building shook with an unearthly rumble at the end of his sentence. The machines seemed to not have noticed anything, but most of the scientists cowered in fear.

"It is too late for anyone to back out of this plan," he replied in a matter-of-fact manner, "Everyone has already known what they were going to get into as soon as they signed on." Tremors ran through the entire building and the walls began to crack. A young man broke through the ranks and ran towards the door.

"No! No! I need to get the hell out of here!" He scrabbled for the doorknob as beads of sweat ran down his face. His lab coat fluttered with every jerky movement. "Let me out! You can't keep me here!"

The old man clapped his hands together. The glasses on his face slowly hovered in the air an folded in the lenses and pulled together the hinges. It had an odd mosquito shape to it now, with its lenses as wings and its hinges as a needle-like contraption. With a quick flap of its lenses, the recently transformed robot flew to the young scientist and sunk a sharp point deep into the base of its skull. The man ripped it out.

"I didn't even feel a thing," he sneered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be goi—" A strange look crossed his face an he keeled to the floor and fell on his face. A thin line of blood dripped out of a small puncture wound on his neck. The mosquito-bot buzzed back to the old man and reformed its shape to a pair of glasses again, settling down neatly on the old man's face.

He adjusted them with a hand before facing the audience again. "Anymore concerns?" The rest of the scientists remained deathly quiet. "Good," he concluded. "Walking out with the information here is the same as walking to your death."

A brave woman raised a shaky hand. "What about staying here?"

The old man looked thoughtful for a moment. "Same difference," he concluded simply. Everyone quivered. The small robot next to the woman gave a worried chirp before moving behind her. "Maybe the witches can-"

"They can do nothing. We're not looking for war. But if it comes to that, then there is no sidestepping it," the old man stated seriously.

"We're scientists, not soldiers!" One man blurted out. Everyone agreed in quiet murmurs. "Our robots aren't meant for fighting!"

The old man gave a dry chuckle. "We don't have to worry about that," he admonished them. There was the terrible screeching sound of metal being ripped apart. "Not for long anyways."

One middle-aged woman let out a repressed sob. "We should have listened to Shinigami-sama!"

The man ignored the statement. "We have already contacted a trusted agent to continue the plan."

"Stein?! That foolish-"

Something outside the room banged against the steel door, creating a large dent. The scientists huddled together, their robots were powerless against this greater power. There was an eerie silence.

Thunk.

The scientists held their breaths.

_Thunk._

The old man simply looked up at the small window on the very center of the dome ceiling. The stars in the night sky innocently twinkled back at him. "Good luck," he murmured, as a large metal claw tore through the door.

The unfeeling red-eyes of the mechanical monsters stared at them before launching into action. The building could hold on no longer. With a groan, the dome began to implode upon itself. Large pieces of the ceiling tumbled down, crushing the screaming bodies below. Those who were not crushed faced a gruesome death by mechanical killers. To his surprise, the old man could easily block out the agonized screams, and ignore the blood that splattered like some gruesome abstract painting on the floors and walls. He didn't even flinch as red-eyes stared into his tired ones, content with the knowledge that no reapers would be coming for them.

For they never had souls to begin with.

_"Try to remember me, hm? I'll see you later, Death."_

Maka abruptly sat up, her hands clenching her pounding head. Through her small bedroom window, the moon laughed and laughed.

* * *

**AN: Yup...I'm planning to make this a MakaxKid story, and I promise it'll get to those parts eventually! I'm not very experienced with writing romance so my apologies for any awkward transitions. Review/feedback would be much appreciated. Thank you for reading ^-^**


	2. Chapter 1

"- a distraction to the kids," Spirit argued. "Completely unnecessary. Why the hell should we have to worry about a couple of dead wack-jobs?"

Death the Kid leaned against the door frame, the black skull-patterned tie in his hand almost forgotten. Grateful for his enhanced Shinigami senses, he remained motionless, listening carefully to the argument inside.

"They're not kids any more." Stein tiredly exhaled a long wisp of smoke. "It doesn't matter." He dropped the cigarette onto the ash tray, signaling that he was done with the conversation. "I will inform them tomorrow."

Kid paused for a moment longer before finishing his tie knot. Making some minor adjustments to ensure that it was neat and unwrinkled, he moved away from the door only to be stopped again by green eyes inches away from his amber ones. Kid instinctively took a larger step backwards and bumped into a marble statue of the late Lord Shinigami. It tottered side-to-side before tumbling off its pedestal and smashing onto the ground. Both onlookers winced but stayed in place. Whatever happened to the enhanced Shinigami senses? A stifling silence descended down around them like a heavy curtain.

It was Maka who snapped out of it first. "Here I'll-"

"Sorry," Kid quickly bent down to clean up the shards, "let me-"

"HEY!" A blue blur almost bowled both of them over. "Already forgot about the party today, eh?" Blackstar scowled and looked down at the two. "Clean that up and then get your asses over to our house. I need to find that sneaky bastard!" Kid and Maka were left staring at his retreating back. Her lips slightly upturned at her friend's antics, she returned to the task at hand. Maka jerked her hand back after touching a particularly large shard at the wrong angle. The smallest trickle of blood slowly slipped down her index finger. She frowned. It didn't hurt, but...

"_Maka," a long shadow snaked its way around her. Maka blinked and observed the small room she suddenly found herself in. There was one small window, but whatever light that shone through could only dimly lighten the barren surroundings. It was only her here. Her and this godforsaken thing. "You want to be stronger don't you?" It crooned._

_"I don't need to," she responded firmly, "by my own power I can-"_

_The shadow cut her off with a harsh sound that she supposed was a laugh. "Don't be silly," it hissed, "the source of your supposed 'strength' does not come from you." A dark spindly claw-like hand reached out and rested on her shoulder. Maka shivered and tried to squirm away, but the darkness dug its fingers insistently onto her arms._

_"Don't fight," it whispered softly. "It's pointless. I am you and you are me."_

_"Stop it," she commanded. Maka mustered up all the strength, all the courage that she could find within herself. "Stop."_

_It gave a leering grin. "How foolish. Asking the blood in your own veins to stop..."_

"Maka?" Kid's pale face remained impassive, but his voice carried the slightest undertone of concern.

She quickly shook herself out of her stupor. "I'm fine. Just a little tired, Shinigami-sama."

Although no particular emphasis was put on the title, Kid shifted his focus slightly to one side, uncomfortable at the prospect of meeting Maka's piercing gaze.

"Why no cloak or mask today?" Maka abruptly asked. She would have blushed at her bold outburst any other day, but at the moment she felt much too tired to care. Maka stared at the three white-stripes in his hair that had only recently been connected.

Kid did not answer her. It felt like it had been so long since he met one of his friends face to face without wearing his white bone mask. Shying away from Maka's stare, he found himself dearly wishing for that thin brittle shield. It was much easier when his facial expressions were hidden away, when even the sharp yellow of his eyes could not be discerned by the viewer. The thick, horribly asymmetrical cloak helped too. It gave him the much needed reminder that everyone else was normal, while he was...he was a...

"You're not going to the party, are you?" Her voice held no accusation. Kid calmly slid the skull ring on his right hand a couple millimeters up. No matter how much he tried, that perfection still eluded him, twisting and slipping away from his grasp.

"I'm busy," Kid replied shortly. "I have other matters to attend to. Please send my apologies to Blackstar and Tsubaki."

"You're always busy now," Maka noted. He could only agree with her. Maka straightened up and dusted off her plaid skirt. Kid also rose from his kneeling position to stand in front of her. He was taller, she realized as she stared at the neck of his suit. He had changed. They all have to a degree. She fought back a sudden smile. Some things might never change.

"Shinigami-sama," Maka called out casually. Wary of the slight teasing lilt in her voice, Kid watched as she turned her back to him and began walking away at a leisurely pace down the corridor. He had to repress an urge to take out his handkerchief and viciously wipe away the small scuff marks produced by her mud-stained boots.

"Yes?"

She patted the left side of her head, twirling one ash-blonde pigtail between her finger. "Your bangs are getting longer on this side."

Kid's hand immediately shot up to the respective side of his head. After briskly nodding a farewell to his fellow meister, he hurried to the nearest bathroom where he could freak out in front of the mirror in privacy.

Her mood lightened considerably. The Kid they knew was still there somewhere.

"Oi Maka," her weapon greeted her outside the library. "Is Ki-...is Shinigami-sama going to be there?" The albino scythe looked alarmed by the content expression on her face.

Maka smiled mysteriously. "He'll come."

* * *

**AN: Back from vacation! When I wasn't busy sleeping or feeling nauseous on the long flight back, I managed to write this out. And finally, the introduction of Death the Kid is here (along with some short appearances from Blackstar and Soul!) Kid is more serious and withdrawn after taking over his father's responsibilities, but I've tried not to make him too coldhearted. **

**Many thanks to ChildrenAreMySoulFood, Analeah Green, bond56, vXxBlackRabbitxXv, AnimeOtaku21, and other viewers for taking notice of this story! I will try my best to update regularly (hopefully every week and a half or so). As always, any feedback/criticisms are greatly appreciated!**

**Thanks for reading~**


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